


Deal-Breaker

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:23:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27119512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: For every so-called deal, there are deal-breakers.  Things that would cause one party or the other to declare the deal null and void.  That's just part of the 'art of the deal', isn't it?  And whether those deal-breakers are spoken, or unspoken, or perhaps just assumed by one or both parties (before or after the deal is struck), that can depend on the honor and honesty of the deal-makers.  One thing Garrison and Alex Ainsley are now sure of: woe betide you if you don't understand those deal-breakers before you sign on the dotted line.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Deal-Breaker

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of my cousin, N, who made, and has kept, her own deal - spoken, unspoken, and everything in between.

Mercury Quinn, his name had been, Special Ops. They'd known him, shared the smoke and fire of battle, a drink or two now and again. 

Now they were standing by his grave along with many others, mostly the men and the few women from the teams - not just Mercury's own team, but others as well, others who'd known him, worked with him, all saying goodbye. 

Ainsley had given the eulogy, a gruff emotion showing clearly through his simple words. A few others had added their remembrances, their stories. The widow had stood quietly alongside, head bowed, leaning on the steady arm of Mercury's team leader, Cole Buckman.

Mercury hadn't been his real name; they weren't sure what that had been, even. But it had been his nickname, given because of his seeming ability to fly out of the way of danger, so that among those who counted more than their share of scars, he had been the exception. 

His luck had been renowned among Special Ops, Special Forces, him having seemed to be living a charmed life. "Everything goes his way," the others would laugh, sometimes with appreciation, sometimes with a little envy.

He'd even found time to find and marry Jill, the love of his life, a few months ago - a woman who'd seemed perfect for him, who loved his sense of humor, his easy way of dealing with the world, the war and all else. Ainsley, who'd stood up for Mercury at the ceremony, freely admitted that afternoon his own envy in Mercury having found someone so well suited to him, to the dangerous life he led. 

Jill had accepted the danger of his work, even said as much that day. That she knew the possibility that Fate would act against them, that perhaps he might not always move fast enough to avoid a bullet. She'd laughed up at him then, declared that it wasn't likely, though, not with his track record, and that she certainly didn't expect anything different from him in the future. "And I'll hold you to that, Mr. Quinn!" she'd laughed, with him laughing right back with a crisp, "Yes, Ma'am, Mrs. Quinn!"

Ainsley wasn't the only man there envying Mercury; women like Jill were thin on the ground. Oh, yes, that lucky pair had their life planned out, and no one left the small reception afterwards with anything but good feelings. Oh, perhaps not as good as those of the bride and groom, but still, pretty damn good. 

Even Casino, hearing about it afterwards, admitted he wouldn't have been as opposed to attending as he'd claimed earlier. Weddings made him itch, he'd claimed, and the other men had stayed behind to keep him company. In the end, once Garrison got back and gave them the rundown of the event, the safecracker had shrugged and said, "coulda been worse, I guess. Don't see the need, myself, but if they're good with it, whatever." Goniff had been more interested in the buffet, Actor more in the quality of the champagne served, Chief had ignored the entire conversation. As for himself, Garrison was glad he'd taken the time to attend; it had been nice to have something normal happening for once, something not connected to the war and the missions. 

{"Such a short time . . ."}

The question now drumming in everyone's head as they stood there, watched the casket being lowered into the ground, was 'Why?'. Why did a man who'd seemed to have it all, a man luck seemed to favor above all others, why would a man like that take his own life? Yeah, he'd had a close call, but they'd ALL had those. He'd come out with a few souvenirs, racked up some damages. So had they, every man and woman on the teams. It hadn't broken them; why had it broken Mercury? Or had it? But if not that, then what?

And it was a question that would continue to haunt them because, if some unknown could cause someone like Mercury to do the unthinkable, what would it take for them? No one had realized, not more than that he'd seemed quieter after his unaccustomed stint in the hospital after he got caught up in that explosion. 

And it couldn't have been that really, could it? Sure, he'd gotten some heavy bruises, a cut that had needed stitches and would probably leave a scar. He wasn't moving real well, had a hitch in his step, but from the looks of it, nothing more. He'd spent a few days in the hospital but then had been released; the docs were just wanting to keep an eye on him for a couple of days afterwards to make sure they weren't missing anything. He had been looking at some down time, recuperating at home, being fussed over by his wife, but it shouldn't have been for long, and really, most of the others would have been more than happy to have that opportunity rather than spending their healing in a hospital or clinic somewhere. Garrison's crew had staunchly agreed. Even the dorm at the Mansion with the guys around offering their support would have lost its appeal with that option available to them.

Garrison's thoughts were a little different from most, as he stood with his silent men, looking at that silent grave, at the black-clad and veiled woman being led away so solicitiously by Mercury's commanding officer. Cole Buckman, not Alex Ainsley, though those two had known each other the longest. Ainsley's association with Mercury had come from the earliest days of the war, when they'd served together on a team before Ainsley got tapped to lead his own. Mercury had stayed behind, served under the new man til HE went down in a rain of bullets, then under the replacement, the team SIC Buckman.

{"No tears, not that I can see, though with that veil I might be wrong. Well, not everyone expresses grief in the same way, and for some, tears don't come easy. For some, maybe, tears don't come at all. And maybe she was just overwrought yesterday; maybe it was just that - maybe she didn't mean half of what she said, or at least what I thought I heard."}

Still, he remembered the rumor that was trickling through a few of the teams, that Mercury HAD experienced an additional injury during that explosion, possibly a temporary one, but still one that had every man jack of them wincing at the thought. 

He knew now at least part of that rumor was accurate, remembered Mrs. Quinn's words as she'd sat across the tea table the prior day, politely accepting his and Ainsley's condolences. There had been something there that poked at him, even from the first; something about her words, maybe the aggrieved expression on her face. {"Aggrieved, more than grieving."} 

They'd spoken of Mercury, he and Ainsley; how they'd respected and liked him, how he was a good man and a good comrade, how they'd miss him. THEY did, and they would.

She'd accepted their condolences, but hadn't really engaged. Their words of praise, of respect, even admiration for Mercury just got them an odd look, as if they were being inappropriate, maybe rude, or perhaps, that their words and the sentiment behind them were simply irrelevant to the occasion.

They sat, sipping tea, the silence in the room echoing painfully. When she finally did speak, her words had a different tone, went in a different direction, enough the two men would have been better content if the harsh silence had prevailed.

It had all been about her, that conversation, at least her part - when it really came down to it, any mention of Mercury was almost an afterthought, a bitter side note to how his fate would affect her. 

About how she'd not really expected this, that he supposedly was bullet-proof, everyone had said so. "Apparently I should have thought to ask if he was also explosion-proof," she declared with a sour twist not only to her lips but in her voice.

"That scar! When I think of his face now, I won't be remembering the man I first met, the handsome man I married; all I will remember is that hideous scar!"

Both men frowned just a little, glancing at each other, puzzled, remembering when they'd visited Mercury in the hospital. Yeah, there was going to be a scar, but 'hideous'? To their recollection, it spanned from one temple down to the middle of that same cheekbone, and even the doctor had assured him, "not quite a dueling scar, old boy, but not so much different. Quite dashing, I'd think, once the redness goes away!"

"And he was so graceful before, the most marvelous dancer, and the doctors weren't sure he'd ever totally be rid of a limp. They didn't seem to think that so very important, but how on earth can you waltz with a limp, or even move through a crowd with any ease, tell me that? How embarrassing would that have been, if he should stumble and fall in front of my friends? He came close to it, you know, even walking across the room! Why, he might even have had to start using a cane! Of course, the doctors swore it wouldn't come to that, but they had to say that, didn't they, or it would look as if they hadn't done a very good job."

Her querulous voice lamented that they hadn't had time to start a family while they had the chance, before it was too late. "Because it WAS too late, you see, afterwards. THAT was something the doctors weren't sure would change, that he would ever regain his capabilities in that regard. I certainly never bargained for that! A marriage without children, even disregarding the other; no, that wasn't part of the bargain." 

Garrison hadn't brought up the rumor of a divorce, (probably not even Casino would have been that gauche), though that information now forced itself to his mind. Still, the reason the grapevine supposedly listed there had seemed remarkably cold to him when he'd first heard it. A rumor now seeming to be supported by her words.

So Mercury had an injury that would possibly affect his sexual performance, would possibly affect whether the couple would have children - at least children of his own fathering. Was that enough to destroy a marriage that, not so long ago, had seemed made in heaven? Perhaps her words, bewildered, disappointed, disapproving, explained it all to the two uncomfortable men sitting in her living room, no matter how they shied away from what she was saying.

"I fell in love with him right from the beginning. I thought he was such a MAN, you know? Brave. Intelligent. Kind. From the right sort of family background, with all the social graces. And so handsome, too, of course, so virile. Our children would have been everything I ever imagined. I always wanted a large family, you know, and then, in addition to everything else, he couldn't even give me that." 

Certainly she looked bewildered, even a little affronted when Garrison forced a comforting smile onto his face and offered some kind words. 

"He was all of that, yes, Mrs. Quinn. And I didn't know about . . . But I know he wanted children, too. When I saw him a week or two ago, I know he'd talked about a couple of the kids at the orphanage that had really caught his eye; talked about maybe adopting them once things settled down. I could give you their names; you might want to look in on them. He really thought . . ." His voice trailed off at the look of deep offense on her face.

Her mouth pursed disapprovingly. Obviously her opinion of his words differed from the intent.

"Some who-knows-whats? Someone else's cast-offs? He mentioned that, and I had to explain how ridiculous that idea was. Mercury was supposed to give me my children, but the real way, the right way. He KNEW I expected that! Oh, I know it wasn't totally his FAULT that he couldn't anymore, but it wasn't my fault either. I wasn't the one who broke the bargain, and I certainly should not be expected to accept such a shoddy substitute on his part.

"And that's what marriage is all about, isn't it? A bargain - with responsibilities and expectations on each side. We chose each other for certain qualities, certain attributes and behaviors, and I, at least, expected those would not change dramatically. He was to provide a home and security, the right social standing; I was to maintain that home and fulfill a wife's social responsibilities. He was to give me children; I was to bear and rear those children properly. 

"HE failed to live up to his side of the bargain, and he really couldn't have expected me to just accept that. He really could NOT have! 

"And for him to have been so shocked when the papers arrived - for him not to have accepted the reality of that gracefully, that it was HIS failing that ended our marriage - to make such a scene, to turn what should have been a private matter into a public embarrassment like this . . ."

Garrison and Ainsley exchanged an incredulous look at the idea that their compatriot's suicide would be phrased only as 'a public embarrassment' from a women who'd stood beside the man and exchanged marriage vows so recently. 

As one, they arose, said their strained goodbyes, their stilted well-wishes, and left. There was no more discussion, just a quiet goodbye, until after the graveside service the following day. Garrison had quietly sent his men on their way to have a drink, staying back to have a word with Ainsley. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say, but he knew there were words unsaid, things that needed to be said.

"Silk's place, Garrison?" Ainsley asked. "I need something to take the taste out of my mouth."

And Silk's place it was, Garrison needing a strong drink nearly as much as Ainsley; no, maybe even more.

Maybe it was the liquor, maybe it was that interview with the widow added to the sight of that coffin being lowered into a grave. Whichever, Ainsley brought up the subject that was foremost in their mind, no matter how much they wanted to wipe it clean, or maybe bury it, as they had their compatriot earlier that morning.

"Is that what it is, when it comes down to it, Garrison? Marriage, I mean. A bargain? Where being in the wrong place at the wrong time is enough to end it? Not ending up dead, I mean, but something else. Where if it's not all sunshine and roses, it's over? Hell, it could have been HER not able to have kids; it happens, doesn't it? My older sister can't, not after that car accident; is stuck in a wheel chair too and always will be, but it didn't break up their marriage. And Joe doesn't seem to think he was oh-so-cheated, didn't turn around and walk away, doesn't blame her for how things turned out," Ainsley growled, well into his second drink, obviously not intending to stop there. 

He wasn't married, no, had no one in his sights, but he'd always thought he would, someday. Now? Now he wasn't all that sure. Maybe he'd been looking at the whole thing like a purblind romantic fool. Maybe Joe and Lois were the rare exceptions; hell, maybe the ONLY exceptions!

Garrison was silent for a moment, took a drink of the harsh whiskey in his own glass. The taste was rough, but not as much as the effects of the words Jill had let fall. 

He felt a chill that didn't come from the moving air from the overhead fan as he considered Ainsley's words. It was a sign of how disturbing that interview had been that the two men were even discussing such things.

{"IS that all it is, a bargain? A business arrangement decked out in pretty words and soft lies? An exchange of goods and expectations and duties? Where one misdirected bullet or knife throw, one fall or explosion gone wrong, and you're not worth keeping around? Hell!"}

He repeated the words now, "what she said, Ainsley - 'I thought he was such a MAN, you know?' He couldn't give her children, from what she said, though how far that inability went, we'll probably never know. Maybe he was incapable of the act itself, though there are other intimacies possible, certainly, if that was what she was concerned about. She can't be THAT naive!

"Damn! He'd had the devil's own luck so far, but that couldn't have been expected to last forever. Did she really think it would?? If the war had changed him in ANY way from that 'ideal man', would she still have turned her back? Any disappointment of her expections, any 'failure' to uphold her view of the 'contract', any changes from that 'ideal man'. 

"Christ, to live with all those expectations, spoken, probably a hell of a lot unspoken, supposedly 'understood!'. "This is what I expect in order for me to see you as a man, even as a person I'd want to live with. I don't accept second-best, like someone else's 'cast-offs', and if you don't make the grade, that's what you are, second-best." That's what she was saying, when you get right down to it. 

"But I still don't understand, him, I mean. Yeah, that had to be a body blow, her rejection, her filing for divorce; it would be for anyone. Still, for him to take it like that, blow his own brains out, rather than just walk away, just say Good Riddance to the damned woman and her ideas of what made or didn't make a man. I wish he'd said something, reached out to one of us, something. Maybe . . . I wish . . ."

He shook his head, thinking of that cold grave, her turning and walking away with no emotion other than a remote shimmering air of disapproval and disappointment.

"Makes you think, you know," Ainsley said, shaking his head. "I mean, what WAS the deal breaker for her? Or was it any and all of it? Would the scar alone have done it, or maybe the limp? I wanted to ask her, there at the end, but I wasn't sure how to ask without telling her what I thought. Hell of a thing that'd be, get kicked out on my arse while doing a condolence call!

"I know one thing, Garrison; I'm going to be doing a little more asking now, if I ever meet someone I'm thinking about taking that step with. Find out what's going unsaid, what the deal-breakers are. Course, you start asking things like that, you might find out who to back away from, but you could just as easily push away the right someone who'd be offended you were doubting her in the first place. 

"Maybe there's no win in the game at all. And isn't that a hell of a note. Maybe the guys have it right. Like Casino's always saying - a few laughs, a good time, a hot time between the sheets now and again when you get the need - but leave it at that. Heard Actor say it too, but with more words and a lot more style, of course - but the meaning was pretty much the same."

He hurried to take another drink, tossing it down like water. Garrison poured himself another from the bottle in the middle of the table and deliberately echoed the movement. It wasn't the smartest thing to be doing, and he knew he'd have a vile headache the next day. Ainsley was a hard drinker, including of whiskey the quality of which even made Goniff look at it with hesitation. Garrison, on the other hand, preferred his drink of a few (dozen!) steps up in quality, and was usually satisfied with no more than a couple, especially in public. This discussion, though, following that interview with the widow the previous day, the funeral that morning, it called for liquor and a goodly amount of it.

"Leave it at that," he mused, echoing Ainsley's words. "Maybe. The odds any of us coming out of this war the same way we went in, those are in the negative range by now. And I know you have nearly as many scars as I do, and I can't imagine us getting to the end without a few more, even if nothing worse comes along."

There was a long silence as they each thought their own gloomy thoughts. 

Then a smile, small and rueful, but still a smile, appeared on Garrison's face, surprising his fellow team leader.

"Though, if we're lucky, maybe we won't HAVE to leave it at that. Not everyone thinks like Jill; I KNOW that, Ainsley. I can guarantee you that, from personal experience."

And he could.

Garrison remembered something Goniff had told him after that terrifying experience with the Ballantine twins. "W'at we 'ave, it's not just w'at's between the sheets, Craig. It's w'at's up 'ere, in 'ere," tapping his forehead, his chest right above his heart. It had been clear Goniff had included Meghada in that broad 'we', and Garrison had seen no reason to doubt him.

{"Would Goniff turn away if I came up on the wrong side of Luck, like Mercury did? Or if it was Meghada who came into the crossfire again? He sure as hell didn't pull away when she got those scars from when she went in to pull Lynn out of the fire, or when those idiots decided she was a vampire ripe for staking and burning and almost blinded her. She still carries that scar across her temple, always will. He didn't act like she was less, was lacking somehow, less desirable due to the scars, the scars or her experiences with that German general.

{"Would what I feel just vanish, if it was Goniff who was hurt like that? It's not like that's the only way of expressing love, sharing intimacy; not even the most feasible sometimes. But if? Would Meghada stop loving him, stop thinking of him as 'Goniff, a man, the one I want to stand beside me,''? I can't see that. I sure as hell wouldn't, I KNOW that! He's been hurt often enough, where we weren't sure if he'd survive or what shape he'd be in if he did, to know you can't always predict the outcome. Me, too, come to think of it. Hell, like I told Ainsley, there are other ways, and even so, that's not all there is! Goniff was right. It's not all about what's between the sheets; there's what's in the heart, in the mind, in the soul. There's more to share than just that."}

"You think so?" Ainsley asked with some degree of skepticism, breaking into Garrison's reverie. "So, you tried the carousel and managed to grab hold of the brass ring?? No deal-breakers? You sure about that?" 

He hadn't heard of Garrison having any romantic involvements, certainly no committed relationship, but from the sound of it, he had, and something he thought was solid.

Now, watching the startled look on the team leader's face, almost as if Garrison had forgotten Ainsley was sitting there, Ainsley wondered if Garrison was having second thoughts about any relationship he DID have. Whether the man had really been talking to himself more than to Ainsley.

And he would have been right about Garrison more talking to himself than to Ainsley. Garrison had been primarily thinking out loud, but now, pulled back into the here-and-now by Ainsley's voice, he put his mind to thinking about the subject seriously, remembered the occasions that could have been, SHOULD have been deal-breakers.

Seeing Meghada smile and raise a pistol, shoot Goniff in the heart without one single sign of remorse - that should have been a deal breaker. But considering it had all been a con to catch a set of sleeper agents, though unbeknownst to Garrison at the time, it hadn't been, at least not after he'd gotten over the shock of seeing a ruefully laughing Goniff pull himself up off the floor.

And, after all, slugging that same woman, leaving her with a sore jaw and bruised face, along with breaking a couple of her ribs against the closest furniture - that should have been a deal breaker, especially since he hadn't even apologized, not for an uncomfortable stretch of time. But it hadn't been.

Garrison and his earlier penchant for using whatever means necessary to get the job done, even if it involved using kids - that had come damned close to being a deal breaker with Goniff, and probably would have been if not for the intercession of Actor and Chief. 

Anthony Napoli and their reunion, with Goniff ending up on the rough end of the stick - that could have been, WOULD have been, if Anthony had had his way. But he hadn't, thankfully.

Garrison and his unplanned, unwanted, but still reoccurring entanglements with various women, even to the infant triplets showing up in a turnip box at the Mansion - probably all of that and more should have been deal breakers. 

But, thank the Sweet Mother and the two others involved in that carousel ride, none of those incidents had been that, though probably that was more due to Goniff's seemingly neverending patience with him than anything Garrison truly felt he deserved.

Ainsley waited, halfway expecting Garrison to admit that, yeah, he was looking at a few possible deal breakers in his current personal relationship.

But there was just something about how Garrison raised his head from contemplation, that degree of solid confidence in Garrison's face, in his words, that he really wanted to believe.

"No, none to worry about; nothing we can't handle between us. I know that. For us, it's rock solid."

Then, after taking another sip of whiskey, he expanded on the point

"As for deal-breakers, well, I admit, those go with the territory, whether it's marriage or anything else. I mean, if there's a 'deal', there are going to be deal-breakers, on all sides; that's just a given. Those are probably different for everyone.

"But, for us? That would have to involve a betrayal of almost-unimaginable depth, which I can't see happening. We've gone through enough fires together to know what we are each capable of. To break what we have would take something totally beyond the realm of our underlying characters, our deepest-held beliefs.

"I'll tell you one thing, it sure as hell wouldn't involve one of us getting a new scar, or a few scars; it's not like there aren't already a few. It wouldn't be one of us coming up with a limp or worse. Or having to find a way to be a little inventive about physical satisfaction, giving or receiving - anything like that. And, yeah, we'd like kids someday maybe, we've talked about the possibility - but there are options there too if that doesn't pan out the old-fashioned way, and with us it just might not."

Ainsley looked envious. He wouldn't mind having something rock solid behind him either. {"Garrison, of all people! Well, maybe it's not such a surprise after all. There always has been something a little different in the way he looks at things, handles things. Hell, look at that team of his, his track record. Can't see anyone else managing any of that! But to keep it quiet, this 'rock solid' thing of his? That IS surprising, it not hitting the wire yet, considering that busy grapevine HQ has on commission."}

"Anyone I know?" he asked curiously, surprising a laugh out of the other officer.

"One day, I'll maybe introduce you, Ainsley. After the war, though, probably not before."

Ainsley accepted that, knew enough not to press. Yeah, he figured that response probably meant he DID know that other half of Garrison's 'deal', but that 'after the war' meant it wouldn't be smart for Garrison to admit to the relationship now. He could imagine all sorts of reasons for that, but just shrugged and went back to the reason they were here.

They settled down to have one last drink, this one raised in honor of Mercury. 

"To Mercury. A good man, gifted with more than his share of luck, but his luck finally ran out," Garrison intoned. 

Ainsley nodded, "sure as hell did." 

And the knowing look showed they were in agreement as to when that exact moment happened. It wasn't when Mercury got caught up in that explosion. Or when that final bullet found its mark. No, his luck had run out several months ago, when he said "I do." 

When his luck had run headlong into a mass of deal-breakers, and his luck had crumpled under the impact.

**Author's Note:**

> Includes references to events from various previous stories, though it is not necessary to have read those to get the gist of this story.


End file.
